Second Chance
by ishIheard2day
Summary: Brittany's skin is hot and wet. Supple and soft. Santana's hand is cool and strong. Her touch careful, yet commanding. Brittana slightly angsty smut. Now a two-shot.


Rated M for, ya know, smuttiness. But there's a bit of fluff thrown in too. Brittana is Endgame.

Disclaimer: I do not own glee or any of its characters.

* * *

Santana's eyes, and her panic, grew larger with each word escaping her best friend's lips. She knew something was up with the vague text asking her to come over, the way Britt had been wringing her hands when she was pacing back and forth in the room, offering her every cold and hot beverage stocked in her kitchen, all while she sat at Brittany's kitchen table.

Now that she knew what had Brittany so nervous, Santana wondered if her reaction was the right one. Did she play the role of the overjoyed best friend when Brittany told her that Sam had proposed? Did she pull a Rachel Berry and clutch her chest dramatically and wipe away a nonexistent tear?

Santana couldn't recall. She looked up at her best friend and the only thing that came to mind was that she lost.

Lost her chance.

But did she ever really have a chance?

Lost the battle.

He played dirty. She should have, too.

Lost her love.

The love of her life was marrying someone else and there was nothing she could do about it.

"Hey, where'd you go?" Brittany asks, concerned that her friend was being so quiet. The warmth of her hand over Santana's brings her back to the conversation.

"What? Oh, sorry." She shakes her head, clearing her brain enough to realize she needs to play the convincing part of overjoyed best friend again. The corner of Santana's mouth lifts in a small forced smile, trying to convince her friend that nothing is wrong.

"You were a million miles away..."

"No, no," Santana shakes her head. "I was thinking about you. About how exciting and amazing this is for you."

Lies. There will be many, many more to come.

"Really?" Brittany looks absolutely floored. Santana now realizes how worried the blonde had been. The lines on Brittany's face have all but vanished, replaced instead with shock.

_What a weird reaction_, Santana thinks.

"Yeah, of course." Santana slouches in her seat and picks at the already chipped black polish on her nails. Without looking up into blue eyes she says, "I love you B, you're my best friend, so I'm happy if you're happy."

A squeal and blur of gold and blue lands sideways in Santana's lap as Brittany rushes over to hug her best friend tightly.

Santana hugs her back. One hand on her side/waist and the other on her thigh. Easily mistaken as intimate places, but Santana doesn't care. Not since the night a few months ago that has since been plaguing her mind and her dreams. The night she touched her everywhere. The night Sam had been there, watching from the side. But right now Santana conveniently forgets that he was there as well. A poor decision made under the influence of too much wine and a naked Brittany.

The next awkward morning the three of them chalked it up to nothing more than drunken sex with friends, but Santana knew that she and Brittany had shared something that night. Something more than an amazing orgasm. They shared a bond. A bond she'd never shared with any other woman she'd ever slept with before. Santana had worried it would change something in their friendship, which is why she managed to keep Sam away from her vagina and other orifices at all costs.

Santana was a lady's lady. Strictly not dicktly.

That amazing night was a blessing and a curse because while she was expressing her love for her best friend, at no point afterward had Brittany given her the slightest inkling that she felt the same.

Not one word.

Not a longing look.

No drunken repeat at the many parties they went to afterwards.

So Santana let it go. She wasn't willing to risk her friendship on a feeling. So they went back to being just best friends, and Sam went back to being a deceitful little dick.

Now, when in Brittany's presence, Santana plays it cool. Her arms hang at her sides, while the little beauty wiggles in her lap.

Now every time Brittany is near, Santana thinks has to think about car crashes and spiders and vomit to stop herself from getting turned on. It's ridiculous.

"I know I probably don't say it enough, but you're so much more than my best friend, San. You're like my lady soul mate or something," Brittany says, laughing at herself.

Santana looks up, quirking an eyebrow. "Lady soul mate?"

Brittany slaps her shoulder playfully. "Shut up. You know what I mean." She moves to get up but in an act of either bravery or desperation or stupidity, Santana lightly grabs her arm.

"No, really. Stay." Santana pleads with her eyes. Brittany can normally read what's going on in Santana's mind—it's something that came naturally to them both as they got closer over the years. But right now they're so dark and mysterious and Brittany feels like Santana's trying her hardest to hide something.

"I wanna hear more about this lady soul mate business. What exactly does that mean?" Santana's heart pounds behind her ribcage; way too fast for such a casual conversation. She has no idea why she's pushing the subject or why she's holding Brittany hostage.

But the blonde doesn't protest.

Shyly, she shrugs her shoulders and bites her bottom lip. "I dunno." She plays with the hem of Santana's t-shirt. "I feel like we're more than just besties. You get me. I get you...At least I think I do." She laughs a little. Her cheeks and ears flushing as her chest rises and falls quickly.

It's in this moment that Santana sees what could be a second chance. A chance to find out what goes on behind those blue eyes. Did she feel the connection too? Does she think about that night every day?

With the blonde girl still on her lap, fingers dying to touch her soft skin, Santana navigates into uncharted territory. "Do you ever think about that night?"

Brittany tilts her head slightly, eyes wide with surprise. If it wasn't such a serious moment Santana would laugh at how much her expression matches that of Miss Pillsbury's. But it's obvious that this question was completely unexpected. Brittany sits stunned. She blinks… A lot.

"I, y-yeah. I mean..." Brittany stops trying to form a sentence and just sighs heavily. Without breaking eye contact she says, "Yeah, San. I do."

Santana's heart explodes and the smile that overtakes her features can't be held back. The tingling in her fingertips and the fuzzy feeling in her head are overwhelming. Is this what it feels like to have someone love you back?

"What does that have to do with anything, though?" Brittany's follow up bursts Santana's big bubble of love. And while she doesn't think Brittany is annoyed by the question, she can tell that she's definitely uncomfortable.

She's standing at the crossroads. She can keep trekking along this road, further into uncharted territory. Or, she can pack her figurative bags, say 'just curious' and head back to best-friends-ville where everything will remain the same. Brittany will marry Sam and they'll ride off into the sunset. Leaving Santana to die a horrible, miserable, lonely death of heartbreak.

_Fuck that. Maybe this getting married stuff was a blessing in disguise_. She could fess up. Not only about the secret love she holds inside, but she can out Sam, too. That slimy fucker.

She remembers the conversation they had vividly.

"Brittany loves me. You go ahead and tell her that I'm a cheater. Who do you think she'll believe… the clingy lesbian constantly pining over her, or the loving, attentive boyfriend who can give her a future? She'll just shoot the messenger. And you know it." He accentuated his point by smiling that half-sided guppy lipped smile of his and flipping his shaggy blonde hair. Santana hated him more in that moment than ever before. Until now.

He emphasized the word "boyfriend" to hurt her. And it worked. Sam knew Santana wasn't sure if Brittany would ever be in a relationship with a woman. Sex was one thing, but Brittany had only ever dated guys. Add that to the fact that Brittany really wanted to be married and Santana felt completely insecure in the possibility of ever being with the woman she loved.

"Hello?" Brittany asks playfully. Tapping lightly on Santana's forehead.

She laughs and grabs Brittany's hand, holding it in her own. "I was thinking," she replies sticking her tongue out. "I guess it has to do with a lot of things. I've never..." Santana clears her throat. "I've never experienced something like that before."

Brittany shyly looks down at her lap, playing with their intertwined fingers. "Me neither, San. That was the first and only time I'd ever, ya know...experimented more than just kissing." Brittany is definitely uncomfortable talking about the subject, making Santana feel a little more insecure about bringing it up.

"That's not what I mean."

"Oh. What do you mean, then?" Brittany looks into deep mocha colored eyes, trying to read what's going on behind the mask that Santana is insisting on wearing.

"I've never experienced the feeling of being with anyone like that. Being with you was incredible. I think about it all the time. I've never felt so good. It felt like we were making love." She turns her head away and finishes the word in a whisper.

"Santana." The sound of her name on Brittany's lips makes her stomach flutter.

This is it. The moment when their friendship will cease to exist.

"Yeah?" Santana prepares for the worst.

"Same here." Brittany's voice is quiet, but sure.

"What?" Her head snaps up to see Brittany's bright blue staring back at her.

"It's the same for me. I've thought about that night a thousand times. I dream about it. And I tried to ignore it but it wouldn't go away. No matter what I did."

"Why didn't you tell me?" She searches Brittany's eyes for reasons.

"I could ask you the same thing," Brittany fires back immediately, not with anger, but something more like determination.

"Because I didn't want my feelings to be one-sided. I'm secure in my sexuality, but I know that things aren't that easy for you. I couldn't face hearing that you wouldn't want to be with me. And I knew it could have ruined our friendship."

"I didn't want to ruin our friendship either," she says, a smile finally gracing her beautiful face.

Santana shakes her head in disbelief. This feels way too much like a dream.

"So what now?"

Brittany ponders the question for a moment. She could say one of many different things and get the reaction that she's been so desperately yearning for: more nights like the one they had together. Or she could be truthful because this is not something that she wants to risk ruining by thinking with her body.

"I don't know about you, but I've spent too long denying that this thing between us didn't really exist. I'd almost had myself convinced it was all in my head."

"I knew it wasn't in my head," Santana replies. "But I was so freaked out that it was only me, ya know, being the big bad lesbian and all, that it felt that way."

Brittany points to herself. "For the record, this big bad bisexual can't masturbate to anything but the image of your face between my thighs."

It's the way Brittany's voice transformers from flirty and fun to full on seduction that pushes Santana's patience over the edge. Before the blonde realizes what she's doing, Santana turns Brittany so that she's straddling her thighs. Using her hands she uses the back of Britt's knees to pull the blonde closer. Brittany yelps in surprise, then braces herself by holding on to Santana's shoulders.

Santana is breathing heavily and starting to shake a little. "Can I please kiss you?"

Brittany's reply comes in the form of slowly leaning in, eyes fluttering closed, the tip of her nose touching Santana's, and a courageous answer. "Not if I kiss you first."

Santana's core aches at the words. She mutters something like 'fuck yeah' but it's silenced by Brittany's lips on her own and neither woman can help the sounds that erupt from their throats. They're starving for each other. The thirst that has gone unsatisfied for so long is finally being quenched. Without hesitation Santana's hands grip onto Brittany's ass and the seam of Santana's jeans rubbing the blonde in just the right place becomes the most amazing feeling in the world. Shiny brown hair runs through delicate fingers.

Rocking movements become involuntary and they bring each other to the brink with only tongues and lips and moans.

It's Santana who slows them down. She would never consider herself to be the "responsible" one in this sort of situation. However, it's not so difficult to ground yourself in reality when the image of Sam's face begins to float behind your eyes.

"Brittany, wait." She catches her breath. She leans her forehead against Brittany's. They heave in unison. "What about Sam?"

Breathlessly, she answers. "What about him?"

Santana laughs. _I definitely make her feel better than that prick if she so easily forgets she's engaged._

"Have you already forgotten? He thinks you're marrying him."

Brittany places a small kiss at the corner of Santana's mouth. "I know. He asked me to." Santana's hands gravitate to the strip of skin that's bared between the hem of Brittany's black skirt and the beginning of some deliciously lacy white thigh-highs stockings.

Santana snaps herself out of the sexy skin trance. Now is not the time for vague answers, she wants, no she needs, straight answers. She has to know where she stands. "But..."

Brittany cuts her off, placing a finger against her lips. "Don't try to figure it out, Santana. It doesn't make any sense anyway. I love you both."

Firing right back, Santana says, "I get that you love us both. But I want you for myself, Britt. I don't want to share you. I can't share you." She raises Brittany's left hand, putting the shiny evidence in front of her face.

"You misunderstand me, Santana. I said yes to him because he makes me happy, and because I had no legitimate reason to say no."

"And now? Do you?" They've ventured into serious business conversation now. Not nearly as enjoyable as making out, but absolutely necessary for them to venture forward.

Holding Santana's hands, Brittany says, "I do."

Santana believes her but there's still this little problem.

"He makes you happy? Really?"

"Most of the time." That answer makes Santana nauseous.

"That's not good enough, Brittany." Santana thinks about how she's going to break the news to her without fulfilling Sam's prophecy.

"You're right. It's not, and I hate feeling that way about it. But there are times when he's so great and loving..."

Santana goes for it. "He fucks other girls behind your back, Brittany." It makes her so fucking angry just saying the words.

Brittany sighs heavily. Defeated. "I know. I caught him. He doesn't know it, but I did."

"So why are you still with him? That shit isn't acceptable." Santana asks, her eyes wild, angry and protective. Snixx is ready to pay a little visit to Mr. Evans.

"It's not acceptable at all," she says, hoping that Santana understands her predicament. "I just kept thinking how hypocritical it would be of me to flip out on him for cheating, when I was constantly thinking of you."

The room falls quiet and Santana's legs begin to go numb. She figures it's just a matter of minutes before they come to a resolution that will leave her out in the cold. There's no way that Brittany will choose her. This engagement is too permanent, too complicated. She'll stay with him even though she knows he's fucking someone else. She's always been dedicated.

"What are you going to do, Brittany?"

"You assume I haven't decided."

Brittany is right. Santana assumed exactly that.

"Well, don't leave me in the dark." Santana's confidence is a facade. Fake as fake can be.

"It's you, San. It's always been you." Brittany cringes at her own cheesy response but with her whole heart she knows it's the truth. Sam is the guy everyone says she's supposed to be with, but Santana is who she wants to be with.

"You're not afraid of hurting him?"

"Of course I am. You know I don't like hurting anyone. He'll be upset, but he'll be okay. Sam liked having me on his arm and he gave me the things I wanted to keep me there. Other than that, he's got other _interests_ to keep him busy. I was just going along for the ride." She lovingly strokes the side of Santana's face. "I know deep down that it wasn't what I truly wanted. However, being with you… I know without a doubt that with you is where I belong."

Even though she would never admit it, Santana could totally break down and cry right now. She doesn't like to show her emotions, even to Brittany. She's a badass and she wants to show the same on the outside. So instead of thanking the fates for giving her this opportunity, and sobbing all over the place, she confidently says, "Good, because you belong with me."

"So you love me? Like love, love me?" Santana teases.

"Yeah. I love, love you," Brittany returns mockingly. "I thought you already knew that, though."

"I didn't know about the double love. I swear. If I had, I wouldn't have restrained myself all this time."

Still a little shocked by their mutual feelings, Santana wonders why she waited so long to have this conversation. Right, because Sam told her it would end badly. She thinks maybe he knew deep down inside that most likely the opposite would happen. That fucker.

After some more serious business talk and a plan to take things very slowly in the "let's not flaunt ourselves in front of my soon-to-be ex-fiance" strategy, Santana and Brittany moved over to the couch. To _talk_. These new feelings and revelations are complicated. They need more time to sort through them and they need to be comfortable in doing so.

Right.

"What exactly do you mean when you say, 'restrain'?" The blue-eyed girl is very curious now.

Santana smiles, slightly embarrassed to reveal her secrets. "Restrain, as in, keep my hands to myself. As in, try not to imagine you naked on top of me all the time."

Brittany bites her lip at the visual. God, that sounds so good to her right now.

In her best sexy temptress voice, Brittany changes some of Santana's fantasies to a reality. She taps her temple with one finger. "Hmm. I'm having a little trouble imagining what that would look like. Why don't you show me?"

Santana's pulse quickens and she feels the telltale signs of her arousal skyrocketing. "Having trouble, huh? Come here," Santana commands as she shifts down onto her back on the couch. She'll show her what it would look like. Definitely not a problem.

Brittany crawls over top of the beautiful Latina. Those sexy fucking suspenders attached to black jeans and faded red t-shirt, tight against the olive tone of Santana's skin incites lust beyond her wildest imagination. She has to have her mouth on that skin. And soon.

Once again, Brittany finds herself straddling her best friend. She'll have to start thinking of her in a more meaningful way. Best doesn't really cut it anymore.

"I'm here," the blonde says coyly.

"Arms up," Santana requests. Brittany doesn't hesitate. She lifts her arms in the air allowing the tight striped tank top to slide right off of her. _Much, much better_, Santana thinks.

Pale skin. Black strapless bra. What else does she need in this life? Well, maybe a few more things. Brittany is looking down at her with mischief twinkling in her eyes. "Do you need me to unhook it for you?" she asks playfully.

"Uh, no. I'm a professional," Santana says pretending to be offended. She reaches behind Brittany and with what seems like a flick of the wrist, the lacey material falls into Santana's lap.

Her mouth drops as she not-so-subtly appreciates the sight in front of her. Now she doesn't have to resort to blurry, drunken memories of what Brittany looks like sitting in front of her half naked; her beautiful round breasts, smooth, creamy skin exposed. The sexual energy coursing between them could illuminate a small city. They say nothing with their words, but their eyes speak volumes. They love each other. They want to devour each other.

Santana holds Brittany close and kisses the warm skin of her neck as the blonde stretches to allow her more room to suck and lick and bite. Brittany rocks her hips, trying desperately to find something to create friction. She really, really needs friction.

As Brittany continues her quest to put pressure on her clit, Santana's warm hands trail along the tops of Brittany's thighs. The silky white stockings create a barrier that Santana will have to soon remove if she plans on keeping her sanity. Her fingers slip under a skirt, around Brittany's hips, and then finally down to luscious skin covered in panties mostly made of string. She grabs a handful of Brittany's ass with both hands and pushes her down harder on top of her.

Brittany drops her head to Santana's forehead and moans while placing her hands on either side of Santana's head for support.

If Santana had another pair of hands they'd be groping Brittany's perky breasts, too. Damn, there's too much exposed skin for her to handle at once. Especially as they were dangling so temptingly in Santana's face.

Brittany leans down to whisper in her ear, her voice low and breathy, "You like that, baby? Do you like it when I rub myself on you?"

Santana bucks her hips up, painfully turned on by the girl on top of her. Breathless she says, "Fuck yeah, I do. I don't know... how much longer I can handle..."

"Uhhh, yes. I don't care how you do it, I just want you inside me."

With all of her strength she lifts Brittany up and off of her. Even though Brittany is taller, Santana picks her up and the blonde quickly wraps her legs around the Latina's waist as she walks them towards the bedroom. They barely make it into the hallway when an even better idea pops into her head. She slowly slides Brittany down her body, simultaneously kissing her neck and jaw.

"What are you doing?" Brittany asks in a whisper.

"I'm gonna take you up against the wall, baby."

Brittany's eyes darken to a cobalt blue and a purely animalistic moan escapes her slightly parted lips.

"Turn around," Santana says as she pulls her own shirt off, leaving the suspenders hanging at her side. Reveling in the feeling of her breasts pressed against Brittany's bare back, she pushes her against the wall but doesn't restrain her. She wants Brittany's hands on her no matter what. "Spread your legs now."

Brittany is a willing prisoner, her body loving the commanding control Santana is taking with her. She separates her stocking-clad legs and revels in the cool air that rushes over her hot and damp core.

Santana pins her body against Brittany's, her shiny black heels aiding in keeping her hips in the right spot for behind her lover. She whispers in her ear. "How badly do you wanna come on my fingers, baby?"

"So, so badly," Brittany responds with a whimper. "Please."

"God, I love you so much, Brittany. After I'm through with you here, we'll take a shower and start all over again when I make love to you in your bed. Okay, baby?"

Brittany is so overwhelmed with love and lust and Santana's words that she feels the tears well up in her eyes. "Yes, Santana. Yes."

"Good. And why am I going to do all of those things, Brittany? Tell me."

"Because I belong with you."

"That's right. You're mine." Santana says quietly into Brittany's ear. She licks and sucks at her earlobe while slowly rolling down Brittany's ridiculous excuse for underwear. She leaves them stranded at her knees slowly running her fingers up and down Brittany's inner thigh.

They both tremble.

Brittany grabs the end of Santana's suspenders and uses them as handles.

To hold on.

To pull her closer.

Santana spreads her whole hand over Brittany's bare center and they both moan at the touch. Brittany's skin is hot and wet. Supple and soft. Santana's hand is cool and strong. Her touch careful, yet commanding.

"You ready for me?" Santana asks.

"God, yes," Brittany responds quickly, pushing herself harder against Santana's hand.

Santana slides one long finger between Brittany's lips, immediately becoming addicted to the feeling. She's entranced by the warmth that surrounds her and without wasting any time she inserts two fingers into Brittany.

Brittany's body shudders. She's moaning and panting, pushing herself against her lover. Sweat drips down both of their backs. Santana roughly bites Brittany's back, hidden from other's eyes, but staking her claim on her love. The pace they set is fast and hard until its faster and harder. Brittany's body is aching for release. Her abdomen is tight, her legs are covered in her own arousal and her ass is gringing into Santana's hips, quickly bringing both girls to the edge. Brittany tries desperately to spread her legs more, she needs more friction, she's so close to coming, but can't move because she's pinned to the wall by Santana's weight.

"I'm gonna make you come now, baby."

"Do it, Santana. Fucking do it..." Brittany trails off.

"Mmmm..." Santana moans at the sight of her own hand rapidly pounding against Brittany's clit.

"Yeah, yeah, fuck, don't stop. Don't fucking stop...baby, oh fuck!"

Santana grasps Brittany around the waist for more leverage. The muscles in her arm and back tighten and burn. Using the pad of her finger she puts pressure on the spot that will send Brittany flying high.

And fly she does. She soars the height of her climax, yelling and moaning through gritted teeth. Body trembling and clamping down around Santana's fingers. The Latina holds her tightly as she comes down, slowly relaxing her arms and legs, and slowly lowering them to the floor as they turn into one heaping heavy breathy mess.

Brittany lays her head back against Santana's bare shoulder. Breathing heavily, and barely bothering to hold herself up, "tell me again, why didn't we do this sooner?"

Santana laughs. Her center throbbing to the same beat of her heart, but she momentarily forgets about that particular problem when she remembers that she got the girl. Brittany is hers now. "I don't know baby, it's a crime isn't it?"

"A felony at least."

"Sounds like we have a lot of catching up to do," Santana's playful tone diminishes. She could fuck Brittany ten more times before she needed a rest.

"I agree. Good thing you're all mine now," Brittany turns around in her lover's arms and kisses her deeply.

"Good thing."


End file.
